A Painful Mistake
by broadwaygirl257
Summary: Christine regrets choosing to leave Erik. oneshot


**A Painful Mistake**

A/N: Please note, though this may seem like a good lead-in for a fic, I am not turning this into a fic, it is simply staying a oneshot. Thanks for reading this note. Please enjoy and leave a review.

* * *

Christine sat up in her bed, awakened from her sleep by the memory of his voice. He had been singing to her in her dream, that same familiar dream that both comforted and yet, haunted her. She had been in his lair again, standing beside him as he serenaded her with his sweet music, the sound of his voice the most heavenly sound she had ever heard. She still to this day could not forget his voice. 

Groaning, she reached over and turned the gas lamp on beside her. Her small apartment was eerily lit by the small glow it gave off and she let her eyes adjust while starring at her shabby, familiar possessions. The worn armchair, small table, and her miniscule closet filled with patched and ragged gowns were among the few possessions she could still afford on her measly wages. Ever since being widowed at the tender, young age of nineteen by Raoul's death from the carriage accident and being disowned from his upper-class family, she had struggled to survive, taking any jobs available, even working as a barmaid and washwoman. But, for a woman of forty-eight, she was still rather slim and healthy from her long hours of work and meager food supply, though that hardly seemed to matter since she rarely ate anyway.

It was nights like this when she wondered about, and sometimes regretted her choice. It was such a long time ago and she was only sixteen. Still, on cold nights like these, she savored the memory of his strong touch and warm sweet voice. She recalled his lair, every detail of it vividly, as if her own home. He was so sweet and gentle towards her, her mysterious angel. But, he was first and foremost a man, as he had shown her with his warm, bold touch and gentle embraces. He had truly loved her, and she had been so blind towards him until it was too late. She had never loved Raoul as she'd loved her angel. Again, a foolish and painful mistake she'd realized she'd made after it was too late.

Her angel was so mysterious and strange. He had frightened and enthralled her all at once. She cherished her numerous memories of him, often sitting for hours alone, stroking the nightgown she had worn that enchanted night in his lair, the only fine possession she had left she hadn't sold. She would trail her fingers along the delicate lace edge as he had done once, and she could hear his voice, soft and low in her ear

_Floating, falling  
Sweet intoxication  
Touch me, trust me  
Savor each sensation  
Let the dream begin  
Let your darker side give in  
To the power of the  
Music that I write  
The power of  
The music of the night..._

Sometimes, the memories were so strong, she felt as if he was there with her

She had cried over him so many times, the tears filled with a bitter emptiness only he could fill. She tried to only remember happier times, like her debut. That precious night lifetimes ago, wearing her stunning gown, singing confidently to all of Paris and most importantly to him, knowing he was down there listening. Or, performing with her Don Juan in his opera, the passion and lust spilling from his strong voice into her soul. The memory that tormented her the most was the last time she saw him, standing in his lair, alone and broken, his horridly deformed face finally unmasked. She had glanced back at him one last time as she rowed out of that life forever and he sang to her for the last time, his pleading voice bitterly broken ,desperately calling out _"Christine, I love you" _

She fervently wished now that she had made the right choice and chosen to stay with him, becoming his bride instead of foolishly choosing to marry Raoul. She now realized what a painful, horrid mistake she had made. She now understood how the Phantom had felt for so long, utterly alone and miserable, without anyone in the world to love. But it was no use yearning for him now. She still clung to her desperate, hidden hope that he loved her, though it was no use. He would never love her again, after what she'd done to him. Now, all she had left was a heavy, broken heart and an empty apartment filled with his her memories and bitter, hopeless tears. It was no use. She would never see her angel again. Even if she tried, she couldn't find him. He had disappeared infamously, without a trace and she hadn't the faintest idea where to begin searching for him. He wouldn't want her, even if she somehow miraculously did manage to find him. She only hoped he was happy, and not as miserable and empty as she was tonight. Nothing could ever satisfy her longing for him, even the wine she gulped down every night, hoping to drown away her memories. But she could never forget his touch, his sweet whispers in her ear.

Christine knew that memories and wishes would never heal her broken heart. Nothing ever could, except him. Nothing on earth could possibly deaden the pain, except death. The gas lamp died down, the darkness swarming in around her and comforting her, for no one can see you cry in the darkness. The thought of death comforted her, helping her back to sleep against the protests of her bitter thoughts and heavy heart. Nothing but death could finally bring her happiness and set her free from her memories of her utterly painful mistake. And maybe, in the whispered life after death, she could finally be reunited with her angel in heaven. Maybe then he would finally love her and at last forgive her.

Maybe then, she would finally forgive herself...

* * *

Once again, please leave a review. 


End file.
